“Pretend like you’re talking to God.”
“He doesn’t smell like nachos.”

Vince Vaughn is a big and sturdy dude. At 6’5” he tends to tower over his co-stars. And he’s not exactly a string bean either. But those co-stars are usually goofballs like Ben Stiller, Owen Wilson, and Will Ferrell because, in addition to being large and imposing, Vaughn also has swell comedic timing. While many a film have utilized his skills as a funnyman, none have made use of his physical attributes to the same degree as S. Craig Zahler’s Brawl in Cell Block 99.

In the film—another patient, dialogue-and-carnage, satire-cum-homage exercise in the same mold as Zahler’s debut, Bone Tomahawk—Vaughn plays Bradley Thomas, a hot-tempered mechanic turned drug courier who finds himself in a nasty predicament after a botched meth pickup lands him behind bars. Although his criminal transgression only leads to seven years in a medium security prison, the man he “crossed” (Dion Mucciacito) sends a messenger (Udo Kier) to him with an ultimatum: bludgeon his way into the maximum security Redleaf facility and assassinate a certain prisoner there, or a criminal abortionist (Tobee Paik) will force his way inside of the womb of Thomas’s kidnapped wife Lauren (Jennifer Carpenter) and clip off a few of their baby’s limbs.

What follows is exactly what the film’s title promises. After stoically dolling out enough punishment to get himself sent to Redleaf—a grimy pen overseen by the sadistic Warden Tuggs (Don Johnson), who relishes the opportunity to take his prisoner to the clandestine Cell Block 99—Bradley’s violent outbursts lead to evermore grisly results, culminating in a poignant, satisfying conclusion only made possible by the unhurried buildup.

For those who’ve been tempered by the visceral grue of Bone Tomahawk, the unflinching brutality meted out by Vaughn’s brawny inmate will come as no surprise—limbs are snapped, eyes are gouged, faces are peeled off, skulls are crushed. The effects aren’t necessarily superior, but the inventive staging, the dearth of edits, and the crunchy meat-slap sound effects ensure the impact of the action sequences. Neither will Zahler’s wit catch attuned viewers unawares. Indeed, it’s the gallows humor repartee that lifts Brawl in Cell Block 99 above a solidly executed genre exercise. In between pulpifying well-equipped prison guards and annihilating fellow inmates, Bradley offers cheesy quips like, “I’d rather knit baby booties with pink yarn than hit people for no reason,” and, “When I autograph that cast, should I make it out to Mr. or Mrs. Bitch?” If the formula hews a little close to the realm of Tarantino, so be it. Zahler may not be as sophisticated a filmmaker as Tarantino, but he’s quickly developed his own unique and effective brand of violent grindhouse comedy.